


Night Tribulations

by Dune_Carrez



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Acceptance, Anger, Bargaining, Denial, Depression, Drawing, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Love, Miraculous Ladybug - Freeform, Night Tribulations, Shock, Teardrop, Translation, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22847485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dune_Carrez/pseuds/Dune_Carrez
Summary: For all of you. For you.OS on the Miraculous universe - The adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir. The characters belong to Thomas Astruc but this story belongs to me.
Kudos: 10





	Night Tribulations

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Tribulations Nocturnes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18337670) by [Dune_Carrez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dune_Carrez/pseuds/Dune_Carrez). 



> It was a difficult translation, again. The original text has many metaphors and images, which is difficult to transcribe in English.
> 
> I hope it stays true to the original.
> 
> It is a very important text for me and I hope you enjoy it <3
> 
> Xoxo.

Perched on a chimney, the heroine of Paris admired her city. The clear sky and the thousands of bulbs, which lit the streets, gave a magical aspect to the view, especially when the great Iron Lady stood in the center of the landscape, elegant. A smile appeared on her pink lips. Paris was beautiful this evening.

After filling her mind with this landscape, she decided to go home. She sneaked up on the rooftops, jumping from terraced balconies. Despite her garish costume, no one saw the Ladybug dancing in the heights. As she was about to start yet another jump, she noticed a shadow appear against the moonlight against the edge of a roof. She would have recognized these cat ears anywhere.

A doubt took possession of her. Chat Noir had warned her that he would not be available to patrol that night, yet he was there. And the closer she got, the more an unpleasant feeling stuck to her skin. The hero's legs were brought up against his chest, his chin on his knees. The young man, with a rascal look and a mischievous smile, was not there tonight.

She approached gently and placed a gentle hand on her teammate's shoulder. The ears of Chat Noir were flattened on its skull.

“Good evening my Lady,” he murmured.

The pain in his voice rooted her to the spot. She had a lump in her throat, feeling all the discomfort of the tomcat. His posture, his voice, his aura, everything exuded distress. She just sat down beside him without saying anything. Silence stretched in the dark night. And the more the seconds went by, the heavier the atmosphere became. The young woman turned her head towards her friend.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered.

The situation made her uncomfortable, she had to put an end to this din of silence.

The young man continued to stare at the moon for a moment before giving her a sad smile.

“It's about my civil life, nothing you can't hear.”

There was no reproach in the voice of Chat Noir but a sadness such as Ladybug cursed for a moment their condition of hero. How could she pretend to be his friend if she couldn't be there for him at times like this?

“Chat ... We can't put names on faces but never restrain yourself from talking to me if you need to. Never.”

The young man closed his eyes with such force that it was almost painful. The young woman's concern did him as much good as it did harm. He was going to suffocate.

He was going to give way under the strain. He wanted to share his problems. But at the same time not. Why were his feelings so confused sometimes?

“I… It’s...”

He wrapped his arms around his legs and took a deep breath.

“It's been 7 years since my mother ...”

He held back as he could his emotions.

“That she died.”

He felt like he had sandpaper in his mouth.

“It must be difficult for you,” his neighbor replied gently.

He turned his eyes to her, surprised. She looked at him seriously, a certain sweetness in her azure eyes. A feeling of gratitude warmed his body for a moment. She spared him the eternal "I'm sorry" who meant nothing. Sorry for what? Most people said that more by default than anything else. Are they responsible for anything at these times? No. So what? Are they sorry that he lost his mother and that he had to learn to live without her? Surely. But not as much as him.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I don't know if it's difficult. What I think about it is a little confused.”

“And what do you think?” she asked him.

She didn't force him to speak, he knew it. She offered him an opening.

“Have you ever lost someone Ladybug?”

When she gave him a negative answer, he stared at the moon again.

“So, you can't understand.”

She stared at the moon with him.

“No, but I can listen to you.”

He felt his nerves became strained under his skin.

“And what do you want to hear Ladybug?”

He got up hastily before turning his back on her, exasperated.

“What does it feel like when you are told that your mother is not coming back?” he shouted.

He started pacing back and forth.

“Your world is not falling apart. No, not immediately. First the information passes through your eyes facing the defeated looks of those who announce it to you. Then by your ears when the devastating words are spoken. So, your brain makes the connections and sends it all to the rest of your body.”

He forcefully pressed a finger to his heart.

“You have the impression of be elsewhere and your heart is beating so hard that it resonates throughout your body. Because he wants to run away. If your rib cage could open, she would do it and let it go. But that is not possible.”

He stared at the floor.

“You lie down and you breathe. It's your only certainty. They talk to you, but you don't hear what they tell you. You do not want anymore. Because you will know that all this is not a farce and there your world will collapse for good.”

He felt his limbs tremble, but he could no longer remain silent.

“So, I made sure not to collapse. I almost didn't cry. I just thought about how I could relieve my father. I took some things in hand, saying that everything would be fine. Because he collapsed,” he whispered.

“He was crying, and I thought it would kill him,” he continued. “How would he have done if I collapsed too? So, the first fortnight I stayed strong. I just continued to live without thinking. Above all, I shouldn't to think.”

A sad laugh escaped his lips.

“Then there was one day too many. I collapsed too. I was only a child, but I had failed. I cried so much Ladybug. My heart was broken. I had the impression to die. And tears clouded my view,” he explained, staring into space, “I saw nothing but shadows.

“I was hurting beyond words. I was inconsolable but especially in an unspeakable rage. I wanted my mother with me. Nothing else. So, I started to suffocate. Too many tears, too many emotions. Reality was too harsh. I couldn't breathe,” he said out of breath.

A few seconds passed before he spoke again.

“I think that if my father hadn't clasping me hard, I would have died. This new physical pain made me cling to something tangible. I continued to live. To survive.”

He clenched his fists.

“But I was in a blind rage. I wanted to blame everybody, but I remained silent. I had to be strong in front of my family. So, I cried all alone in the evening when there was no one to hear me. And during the day, I went to war against myself. Don't crack, don't crack,” he repeated.

“My grandmother had lost her daughter, my father his wife,” he continued. “I had lost nothing more than them. I still had a father. And I saw them all so miserable and I was so miserable too,” he moaned.

He clenched his fists more, feeling the claws through the suit.

“I started to have painful and ashamed thoughts. If it had been my grandmother in her place? After all that's the way it goes. Or my father? But,” he whispered with pain, “I don't know if my mom could have lived after that.

“Then it could have been me. And I wanted it so much you know. It's selfish but I didn't want to experience it, I didn't want to. I imagined a billion scenarios where she wouldn't die. Where I took her place. Because I should have died in his place! I should have...”

He closed his eyes to retain the tears that accumulated there.

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. But it's not the case. The past is the past. So, I continued. I continue. But I feel so alone. I want someone to understand me. But no one can understand.” He continued with a tired laugh, “I don't understand everything myself.

“Sometimes I feel like I am bipolar. I lock myself in my room, seeking solitude, but I would like someone to support me. I cry softly so as not to be heard but I would dream that someone enters my room. I hate people and at the same time I don't want to be left behind. I want to be obnoxious, but I abstain,” he said spitefully, his heart beating.

“Leave me. Don't abandon me. I do not know what I want,” he said. “I want to hit something, someone, until I have no longer any strength. I want to someone imprison me in a protective cocoon forever. Take pity on me, pretend that nothing has happened.” He continued in a lower voice now, “Ignore me, appreciate me.

“I blame my father for not doing more. I blame my friends for not doing enough. I wish people would do better, do more. I need it. I need...”

He remained silent for a moment, before resuming in a small voice.

“I ... That's the problem. I don't know myself what I need.”

He dared not look at the young woman. He grabbed his left arm gently.

“I consulted someone. But it didn't really help. Then They say that you get used to the absence, that it will pass, that it will be less hard. But in fact, people did not understand anything. You don't get used to it; you learn to live with it, it's an everyday fight. You rub shoulders with lack as you would rub shoulders with this knowledge that is imposed on you. Days ago, you bear it. Others are not. And it does not pass. It is not less hard. But, finally, every day is not a fight either. If at first smiles seem like a bad memory to you, they come back. Because you cannot be unhappy at every moment of your life. Then there is the guilt of continuing to live without her.”

He paused slightly.

“Then some days it's fine and others I would like to die again. With each passing day, I feel her cruel absence. In each giggle, in each tear, in each dawn that begins and each day that ends.

“She is everywhere because I am part of her. I hold close her to my heart, I will always do it,” he declared. “And sometimes when my soul doesn't seem to weigh on a ton, I hear her laughter, her voice and it's fine. I'm at peace with that,” he admitted in a whisper.

“Then there is this period of year when I always feel so worn out of everything,” he said. “I want to fight but I have no longer the strength. I hear those who say it's all in the past now. But it will never really be all in the past. She will continue to be my mother despite her death. Always. And in another 20 years, there will be evenings when I will cry my eyes out and howl my pain. There will be days when I will be so happy that I will be light-hearted and smiley. And when the date of all this drama will come, I will have this awful melancholy in me. Like an important meeting that I dread. But which reminds me that life is short and death unpredictable.”

He felt his lips tremble. The tears had already started to flow on his mask and cheeks. He felt his breathing become shorter. And emotions got too hard. His heart suffered martyrdom. He fell on his knees.

“I miss her. I miss her and I can't do anything about it. I could never do anything about it. I can't, I can't.”

The Chat Noir’s body was shaken by heavy sobs. He continuously chanted his growing distress. Ladybug watched the scene with horror. Silent tears flowed onto her face since a while. She felt sobbing coming. She put a hand to her mouth to contain her grief. She fell on her knees near the young man and held him in her arms.

“I'm here Chat, I'm here,” she said to him through her tears as those of the hero only intensified.

“You have the right to be unhappy, devastated,” she continued. “You have the right to cry. Do you hear me? You have the right. So, cry,” she said aloud but interspersed with sobs. “Let it all go for today,

“Tell me you hate me if that relieves you. Tell me to go, I will stay. I’ll never leave you, I promise,” she cried out.

  
  


On the roof, the silhouettes of the heroes stood out in the night. But they were more like two frail dolls tossed about wind, about life.

And the tears ran dry.

So, despite their reddened eyes, Ladybug gently dragged Chat Noir in her wake and made them climb higher. Then, without a word, they sat down against each other and watched the dawn, painting the sky golden.

Then the sun resumed its rights at night, flooding Paris with life.

**THE END**

_There is - perhaps - no life after death, but it is not the end._

_The missing will always live in our hearts and our memories._

_So, allow yourself to be unhappy but above all let happiness feed you when it presents itself. Let fear guide you sometimes, but don't be afraid to be brave. Hate passionately and love to break your heart. Run after your dreams and make them happen._

_Live, laugh, cry._

_For them._

_But especially for you._

_For your,  
_ _With all my love._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much Wintertundras (Instagram) ! Your work is amazing and I'm in love with these panels !
> 
> Grazie <3


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